


Lifelike and Poseable

by IllBeRightBack



Category: Marilyn Manson (Band)
Genre: For all of this, I am so sorry, M/M, Mechanical Animals Era, Prosthetics, for my entire fic career, sorry - Freeform, the dope show
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-26
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-10-10 23:08:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10449621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllBeRightBack/pseuds/IllBeRightBack
Summary: “Tell me again, why?”“How often does your boyfriend have tits?”-or-On the set of The Dope Show. Twiggy rlly likes Manson's prosthetics.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm drunk and this has been in my drafts for a billion years, sorry. And this is really short too bc I have the attention span of Pogo. As always, I hate myself.
> 
> Title from "New Model No. 15"
> 
> *edit* i noticed this is the 100th manson fic on AO3 so... yay?

“Seriously?” Manson laughed a little.

“YES” Jeordie said for the billionth time.

“Tell me again, why?”

“How often does your boyfriend have tits?”

“That’s true… Serious-”

“I’m going to jam my fist down your throat, YES, I’M SERIOUS”

“Serious about what?” Manson was just trying to piss him off now.

“Are you gonna let me fuck your tits or not?” Jeordie said, annoyed.

Manson just looked at him and smiled for a second, “Fine.”

“Then get on the couch,” Jeordie said, running out of patience.

“So demanding,” Manson laid back against the cushions of the shitty dressing room-trailer couch.

Jeordie quickly pulled his panties off straddled Manson’s ribcage without saying another word. He rucked his dress up around his waist and moved closer to the synthetic material.

“You gotta push ‘em together” He said.

“Pffft,” Manson giggled a little at him.

Jeordie just narrowed his eyes and gave him a sour look.

“Alright, alright, fuck,” He surrendered a little, bringing his hands up and pressing the fake extensions of his body inward. 

Jeordie nudged his body forward, holding the bottom of his dress up with his teeth. He let out a low groan as he pushed his dick between the crevice of soft plastic. He leaned his head back, messy dreads hanging behind him as he slowly started to pump in and out of the tight space.

“Fuck,” He breathed out, moving faster.

He heard Manson snicker a little underneath him. He looked down and the fucker was smiling at him.

“Still gonna be laughing when I’m jizzing on your face?” He asked, voice shaking a little. Fake or not, it felt fucking good.

Manson just bit his lip, trying to stifle another laugh. Jeordie realized the other man was probably also painfully hard and seeing as he had no use of his hands, he was going to have to help him out.

He had put his pants back on, removing the lower piece of the Omega costume earlier. Jeordie palmed him through the material and he lifted his hips up to contact, squeezing his eyes shut.

He was shamelessly rutting against Jeordie’s hand as he pumped faster into his artificial flesh.

“Fuck,” Jeordie gritted out again. 

A few more pumps and he was spilling onto Manson’s sharp collarbones and neck with a choked out groan.

Finishing Manson off with his hand, Jeordie fell forward and braced himself against the arm of the couch. The pair’s chests heaved before Manson broke the silence.

“Good as the real thing?”

“...Better.”


End file.
